Coffee Powder
by St. Harridan
Summary: Following his lieutenant's death, Jushiro has to stand tall for his broken division, but a shinigami can only take so much, and the pained captain realizes that reassurance can come in all forms.


**A/N: **Written for 5 Prompts on LJ.

**Table:** 32

**Prompt: **#5: "I have measured out my life in coffee spoons." (Picture prompt)

* * *

Coffee Powder

A knock on the door jerked Jushiro out of his reverie. His wrist flicked involuntarily, launching the coffee powder high into the air, as the door opened and a couple entered. The powder landed upon the desk, staining his documents and signed paperwork.

"Captain!" a woman cried out, prompting Jushiro to look up and see his two Third Seats breathless in the doorway, their eyes wide with something akin to panic.

"Captain, are you all right?" Sentaro took a step forwards, but Kiyone pushed him back, overtaking him, and rushed to the desk. She took the teaspoon from his hand, but when she noticed that his fingers were trembling, she stopped immediately and stared up at him in confusion.

"Is there something wrong, Captain?"

Jushiro raised his hands, palms upturned towards himself, and gazed at them.

To Kiyone and Sentaro, who were frozen to the spot and holding their breath, he appeared calm and steady. But, deep down, he was actually fighting back the grief that had welled up within him. Pain that had accumulated over the years, bottled up and stashed away, returned with a vengeance. The forceful wave of hurt and sorrow, regret and abandonment washed over him, trying to pull him down with their agony.

But still he stood there, spine straight and rigid, face expressionless, fighting the pain in a silent battle of beasts.

Jushiro didn't know how he managed to deal with it. Many had had their will broken upon the man's death, falling into a mourning period so long that it bordered upon ridiculous. But once they had let it all out, their grief, they returned with sad smiles and a mended spirit.

But Jushiro? He didn't mourn. He didn't cry. Tears no longer fell from eyes as weathered as his. He had seen it all, done it all, yet he still couldn't accept it. Nothing showed on his face except for the reassuring smiles he flashed to his fallen subordinates in hopes of comforting them. Upon receiving just one smile of Jushiro's could lighten their burden and brighten their day, but nobody gave him something to mend his own shattered heart in turn.

"Cap...captain...?" Sentaro started hesitantly, exchanging puzzled glances with Kiyone, who replied with a shrug.

"I'll...I'll clean up for you, Captain." Kiyone reached for the stained paperwork, but Jushiro's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, freezing her in place. His painful grip was gone before it could even register in Kiyone's awareness, and she felt the familiar heat warming her cheeks as a smile graced his features.

Jushiro loosened his grip, and she quickly retracted her hand and took a step back, not noticing the somewhat envious look upon her comrade's person. Jushiro gazed at his hands once more; they shivered as if a bitter winter had just struck the Seireitei. Condemning his own weakness, he stepped closer towards the desk and planted the tip of an index finger on the paper having the most coffee powder.

As his pair of acting lieutenants looked on, the captain wrote out the kanji characters for the man's name, finger expertly flicking through powder.

Once he was done, Jushiro straightened up and replied to his subordinates' questioning stare with a smile that was no longer false. The exhaustion showed in every line of his expression; each tiny wrinkle held the essence of his sorrow.

"Captain..." Kiyone was fully aware of what plagued him, and stepped forward, only to be stopped with a raise of his hand.

"After I've taken my pills," said Jushiro, voice hoarse from disuse, "I want to visit Kaien's grave. Tell Captain Unohana that I will take no more than several minutes."

After a quiet moment of debating with herself, Kiyone nodded reluctantly. Though she was worried for her captain's wellbeing, all she could do was obey him, powerless to stop any decisions he made even if they endangered his health.

Jushiro let his fingers, now steady without their pitiful shivering, flicker across the kanji characters traced out in the coffee powder.

"I'm already late as it is..."

Knowing that Kaien wouldn't mind, a soft chuckle left Jushiro's lips.

The only thing the man would do was nag at him for wasting his precious coffee powder, and nothing more.


End file.
